Piotr

It was a warm August night in 2002 when I picked up my
driving partner in Cambridge, MA. Plan was to spend as little time as
possible driving through the U.S. so that we could leave the rest for
crossing Central and South America all the way south.

I'll spare you the
details of the few run-ins with traffic law enforcement in US or near
loss of all travel documents in Houston, TX Kinkos parking lot where I
was scanning and printing a copy of my car's license plates — when
driving through Central America in a car with foreign license plates you
want to have a laminated copy of your license plate attached to the car
rather than the original - in case the original walks off in
shadier part of town.

Advertisement

The drive through Mexico was mostly uneventful apart from one episode of
money extortion from local authorities in Veracruz. Traffic cops simply
stopped us for no reason and demanded my Passport. I already knew from
reading up a little before the trip that giving up your Passport was a
bad move and $40 was all it took to continue on our way south to
Guatemalan border.

Guatemala is where things got more interesting. Roads were visibly worse
than in Mexico (mind you, we were on the Pan-American highway). Our
first encounter with a large pothole resulted in an immediate flat. We
were in the middle of nowhere and getting the wheel swapped with a spare
as quickly as possible felt like the right thing to do. The full size
jack I packed along with few other essentials came in handy more than
once throughout the trip.

Our fears were not unbased. When we pulled into a local gas station
later that night and chatted with a local he warned us of not driving
these roads at night. Two weeks prior he was robbed of his own car by a
group of bad guys. They set up a road blockade with their pickup trucks
and were robbing at gunpoint.

Having received that warning we took to driving during
daytime only. Which was not without its own difficulties. At least we
could see further ahead and had better chances of reacting in time.

Border crossings in Central America provided an experience of
its own. It was often more time consuming than the driving part.
The mid countries of Central America (El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica)
can be driven across in matter of hours each but the wait on border
and the amount of paperwork required would push the crossing
itself into 6-7 hour ordeal. Part of the complication was obviously the
requirement to get visa for the car on each border. Local kids that
swarmed the car upon arrival would prove immensely helpful in the
process of guiding us through the maze of various "border offices". It
reminded me more of a local swap meet than a border between two
countries.

A smooth, newly built highway greeted us in Honduras.
Surprisingly, the worst roads were waiting for us in Costa
Rica though. There, after paying a speeding ticket in cash on a stretch
of curvy tarmac, we hit roads that really didn't have much in common
with the word 'road'.

They often were impassable due to an array of obstacles - A bus that clearly should not have been there:

River crossing that popped up without any warning whatsoever.

Or a bridge you had to assemble yourself before use
(something I later learned was just a gimmick for the uninitiated one
once I noticed a local charging full speed across, clearly relying on
the "faster you go, the less chance you have to fall through" rule).

Reaching Panama felt like
scoring major achievement points. It's also where the Pan American truly
becomes impassable. The hundred-mile stretch of jungle called Darien's Gapexists to this day between Panama and Colombia and serves as political /
social / economic natural barrier between Central and South America.
Only dedicated 4x4 equipment can cross it.

For us it meant loading the car onto a container ship in
Panama City and picking it up at the destination port of Lima, Peru.
I'll leave out the details of the required paperwork and the language
barrier / logistical nightmare experienced when interacting with local
shipping agencies and customs authorities.

South America greeted us with undoubtedly smoother ride.
No traffic rules to be seen either but covering larger distances at a
time was very much possible.

Improved road infrastructure made it also feasible to
venture off a bit into amazing locations such as Machu Picchu. Driving
through Andes proved to be unforgettable and extreme experience.

Coming back down from Machu Picchu and getting into a
parked car that was still on New Jersey plates felt weird but also
somewhat familiar and uniting — as if the world suddenly become that
much smaller. Just like any other weekend mountain hike where you'd come
down to your car parked after a day of hiking only this time it was
half way down the globe.

Driving on smoother roads didn't come free of danger.
Just because the road was well maintained it didn't mean it couldn't end
abruptly at any given moment, in fact it did on numerous occasions
without warning. Smaller potholes at speed still posed considerable
risk.

Key to continuing this journey was to stay alert and
always carry two full spare metal wheels. Metal rims have the tendency
to bend rather than break which can then be fixed at the next road-side shop with no more than sledgehammer at the disposal. Aluminum
wheels are stronger but will crack rather than bend and therefore become
irreparable in field conditions. Also, by mounting stronger wheels
damage can occur "higher up the chain" — suspension parts and drive
train components, which then become even harder to repair. I did carry a
few critical spare parts known to fail on this car (ignition coil,
axle, alternator) but none of them proved needed. Here is damage to front wheel from hitting a bump on otherwise smooth highway.

Leaving Peru behind, Chile proved smooth sailing and occasional stops were only made for food and shelter.

Entry into Argentina got exciting again. Weather was
markedly colder and the combination of rain and worn tires resulted in
an off-road incident — spin into a ditch at a rather brisk pace on a
particularly winding stretch of Patagonian two-lane blacktop.

Luckily it all ended with just three bent wheels which
were fixed again without much problem in the next town — only getting
there was a bit of a hassle as the car was crabbing heavily at 5
mph. I kid you not, the mechanic took to one of the wheels with a
sledgehammer with the wheel still on the car. The good Samaritan that
pulled us out with his pickup truck invited us into his house and
offered a home cooked meal and hot tea. The warmth of Argentinian people
seemed to contrast the windy and cold vast expanse of southern
Argentina.

At the bottom of continental Argentina all that remained
was to cross onto the island of Tierra Del Fuego, "land of fire",
separated by one-hour ferry ride from the mainland. There it was back to
business as usual, at this point also caring less about saving the car
and pushing more on unpaved sections of the road.

Reaching the bottom of Tierra Del Fuego - Ushuaia - the
most southern permanent settlement on Earth turned out to be pretty
uneventful. Apart from spirited driving on the last two hundred miles
of unpaved road it almost felt monotonous.

Also, at this point my brain and I were probably less
aware of the smaller stuff and the car itself reached some kind of
mechanical-failure equilibrium with few, less critical components
failing long time ago (no odometer, distinct smell of gas, weak or no
heat...) but all the major mechanical bits still worked fine — if not
for the worrying sounds coming from the rear differential. The car just
kept on going.

In the end, lack of time made the return trip in the car not possible. Next day in Ushuaia I booked a flight to NYC and with the
registration plates and my tool box in hand I hopped on the plane back.